


Another Alpha

by ThePornFairy



Series: Wash your hands [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Established Relationship, Frottage, M/M, Possessive Derek Hale, Scent Marking, Showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:35:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23054038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePornFairy/pseuds/ThePornFairy
Summary: When Stiles comes home with news, things don't exactly go as planned.orWash your hands as thoroughly as Derek scrubs another alpha's scent off of Stiles skin
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Wash your hands [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1656781
Comments: 18
Kudos: 744





	Another Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a meme that said "Wash your hands as if you're washing Jason Momoa" and I thought "Jason... yes... but also, Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski."
> 
> This ficlet series was born out of that.

“I’m home!” Stiles shouts into the house. 

It’s entirely unnecessary, the entire pack knows he’s home, but he likes doing it. Look, after a few years of running for your life, fighting for your life, clawing at the edges of survival and trying to hold on… well. Stiles appreciates the mundane now, alright. 

Don’t judge.

“Hey!” Isaac calls from the kitchen. “Did you get the cream?”

“Yep,” Stiles says and walks through, cloth bag in hand. “Does this mean I get lemon curd cupcakes?”

“You might,” Isaac replies, reaching for the bag, before he stops. 

And pales.

Uh-oh.

“Derek,” Isaac says, and Stiles automatically looks around. 

There’s no Derek in sight.

“Derek!” Isaac says more insistently. “Kitchen, please.”

Heavy footsteps come down the stairs, and then Derek rounds the corner.

His nostril’s flare

“He-eeeey!” Stiles says, making jazz hands in the air.

Derek’s eyes go red and he’s growling. 

“So, fun story,” Stiles says.

Derek growls louder, and Stiles can hear the pack on the upper floor opening doors, trampling down the stairs. Isaac has essentially withdrawn into the nook between the fridge and backdoor. 

“Someone touched you,” Derek says between fangs. 

Yellow eyes glint from the corridor behind him.

“Jesus, guys, chill! See, Deaton called me in, because a new dude just moved to town. His name’s Scott… uh, Scott McCall.”

“He’s an alpha.” Derek’s claws are really impressive. 

Also very, very close to Stiles’s neck. Uh. When did Derek move?”

“Yes, funny that. He’s an alpha, and he brought his pack with him --”

Now there’s five growls around one tiny, puny human. 

That’s Stiles. The human, that is. Stiles, the human. Yep, that’s him. Where was he? Oh, right.

“He’s got a wife, and two adorable little girls, and his mother. They’re passing through, looking for allies. He said he’d rented a house for a month, and then he’ll get out of our hair.”

“He. Touched. You.” Derek’s got very sharp teeth. They’re also very close to Stiles’s neck now. 

“We shook hands!” Stiles yelps, the counter now digging firmly against his lower back.

“No. More.”

“Oh, right, he touched my shoulder when I left, dude, it was nothing to worry about!”

Derek’s head turns towards where Erica, Boyd and Malia are crowded in the hallway. 

“Go. Scout.”

“Don’t hurt them!” Stiles calls after the wolves as they disperse. 

The clawed hand clasping his neck makes it a little difficult to sound like he’s got any type of authority here. 

“Bathroom,” Derek growls at him, and tows him along.

In the bathroom, he’s very quickly stripped of his clothes, and then shoved into the shower. Derek in beta form is bulky and slightly clumsy, but he manages to turn the shower head on, making Stiles yelp from the cold water. 

“Dude!” 

“Wash,” Derek says. 

“Alright, alright,” Stiles mutters, reaching for the soap as the water turns warmer. 

He lathers himself with the unscented soap (mostly because Derek growls when he reaches for his own Lego Batman bottle), and rinses. 

“Better?”

Derek looks human again, apart from his eyes flashing red. 

“Give it here.”

Stiles sighs and passes the bottle to him. 

Then he stands entirely still as Derek soaps him up again. Rough hands push and pull him until there’s soap everywhere. A thumb rubs the soap into his ears, over his nose and jaw, and he closes his eyes tightly when Derek does his eyelids and brows. For a dude who can lose his brows anytime he likes, Derek’s quite fond of Stiles’s brows. For unknown reasons. 

When Derek finally lets his head go, Stiles dunks under the water and rinses. As soon as he surfaces, Derek’s hands are on his back, lathering him from neck to hip. That’s very close to Stiles’s ass, okay, so nobody gets to hold him responsible for his entirely reasonable reactions. 

It really doesn’t help that Derek sinks down behind him and does his legs. Hell, even between his toes. For a dude so thorough, he certainly misses some essential areas as he has Stiles spin to do his front, from his feet and up. There’s soap everywhere. Derek takes his time with Stiles’s hands, digging a fingernail under each of Stiles’s own, then lathering up his pecs. 

Getting his nipples and armpits washed while your hardon is poking at your stupid hot alpha wasn’t exactly part of Stiles’s plan today. 

It’s still a shock when the soapy hands return and lather up his happy trail, his pubic hair, dipping down to rub over his balls. He’s shaking by the time Derek’s washed his crack, between his thighs and closes his hand over Stiles’s cock, covering it entirely with suds, rubbing the tip meticulously.

“Please,” Stiles breathes out. “Derek.”

Derek let’s him go.

“Rinse.”

“Fuck.”

Stiles rinses, and rinses and eventually all the soap is gone. He gets wrapped in a large and clean smelling towel, before Derek literally hoists him up and carries him through to the large bed in the master bedroom.

Really, he’s lucky Stiles has such a kink for manhandling.

“Oof,” he says, as he drops onto the mattress. 

Then he’s covered by werewolf. Derek shifts back into his betashift, pinning Stiles arms above his head as he dips down and licks Stiles neck. All of it. There might be a hickey or two. 

Then he licks Stiles pits, which is fucking weird, but Stiles is too turned on to do anything but try push up into it. Derek’s cock drags wetly over Stiles belly, and suddenly they’re frotting, cocks sliding together, skin against skin, and he’s not letting go of Stiles’s wrists, so Stiles heaves his legs up and clamps them around Derek’s waist, pulling him closer, closer, fuck, yes, almost-- 

He comes with a loud groan, his heart pounding in his throat as Derek makes a pleased note and licks once more over Stiles’s clavicle before sitting up. Stiles’s legs tumble uselessly to the mattress, leaving him spread open before Derek.

Derek’s panting, one hand holding Stiles’s legs open and one flying over his cock.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Stiles mutters. “Come on me, please, do it. Derek, do it.”

Derek does, his come painting Stiles’s softening cock, his balls, dripping down his crack. 

They stare at each other for a bit. 

“Uh,” Derek starts, before trailing off while his eyebrows do some mysterious form of interpretative dance.

“You, big bad alpha wolf, very possessive, nobody touch your poor, hapless, helpless human,” Stiles translates.

Derek rolls his eyes. 

“Sure, why not.”

Stiles nods. “Good to know.” He yawns.

“Do you… should I go get…” 

“Let it sink into my skin,” Stiles mutters, pulling the blankets up. “You can wash it off later.”

Derek rolls him over onto his side and huffs against his neck.

“Puny human need nap now,” Stiles mutters, clumsily petting the arm that snakes around his waist. 

Then he sleeps. 

**Author's Note:**

> (Go wash your hands)


End file.
